Virtues of Tyranny
by Hellie Ace
Summary: Cardverse. The peasants of Spades are rioting and the fabled Knights of Virtue have been sent far and wide to quell the Rising. But Knight Arthur will soon discover what it means to live under the shadow of oppression upon meeting a certain stranger. USUK
1. Walking with Wolves

**In an attempt to make a minor tribute to one of MMORPG's originals, Ultima Online, I give you this! The story is based slightly in Cardverse!AU and a lot of the back story and features of the realm draw from the Ultima Online story line. It's a fantastic game that's been going for about 15 years now with constant updates. You don't need to have played the game to understand the story though. The references will be at the bottom if you don't spot them. **

**Also, you'll likely get confused with my directions about where the characters are, ergo, I give you a map! :D**

** h t t p :/s439. photobucket. com/albums/qq115/MoonlightFenrir/?action=view¤t=mapofland. jpg**

**(Remove the spaces)**

**Also, apologizes... my scanner cut off most of the bottom continent and the Kingdom of Diamonds. They're not too important to the story, so I'll let that slide. ;P**

**Warning: The story contains/will contain plenty of M-rated content and some aspects that might cause emotional discomfort: fantasy racism, violence, gore, swearing, sexual misconduct, and yaoi. Don't like? Don't read.**

**And thanks to Kay the Beta for...well, beta-ing! ;)**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

Across the vast island-ridden sea lay a rich place called the Kingdom of Spades. In that place, there had been countless eras of war and peace. Dark magic had given birth to the empire, but the virtuous governed her wide expanse. Or so the people were told. From birth they were groomed to believe that the King and Queen of Spades were the most righteous of them all, and that their loyal guardians, the famed Knights of Virtue, were the deliverers of all the goodness the Kingdom of Spades had to offer. The Knights were the crusaders of truth, those ready to snuff out the darkness that had once had its fiendish grip on the Kingdom. The Spade Royalty and their Knights of Virtue were the very soul of the kingdom.

But that was before the Rising.

Throughout the cluttered islands of the kingdom, the rumors of a dark coming swirled about the masses. The markets were empty, the bank coffers left hollow, and the fires that forged the world's richest and most holy kingdom dimmed to nothing but ashen coals.

"I cannot pay for my food!"

"What of our children?"

"Why must we suffer?"

"Our Lords and Ladies eat well, yet we are starved!"

"Where is _their_ virtue? Where is _our_ food?"

"Tyranny! Oppression! Down with the King!"

"Spades has struck her darkest hour!"

And at the heart of this once great kingdom, there stood a mighty castle. It was built upon a solid stone foundation with spires that pierced the sky and walls that had no equal in their defense. And standing upon the barbette tier was one of Spades' finest Knights of Virtue, Sir Arthur Kirkland. His fame among the kingdom had once been legendary for being the youngest knight of the order and a true prodigy in the art of magic. He was a renowned war hero: a survivor of the brutal Isser War who was rumored to have slain more than one hundred for those that walked the path of Virtue. Now with the Rising stirring the people, Arthur was better known for his bitter sarcasm, indifference towards his people and his infamously cold heart.

The young knight stared down upon the angry crowd of peasants and merchants gathered about the castle's western gate. His deep, emerald eyes watched them squirm and shout with apathy. He had absolutely no sympathy or patience for these people. They were mere paupers, nothing but scum who refused to work and instead stood about the castle walls yelling and cursing as if it would change anything.

The crowd consisted of mostly men, but a few women and their filthy children were present as well. They gripped shovels, picks and hoes as if they were blades and shook them up at the Knights who patrolled the highest tier of the castle walls. In the outskirts of the obnoxious mob, a few beggars tried to peddle from their desolate brethren or preach to them about the coming end of days. Some shouted it was already here, while others simply shook their heads in disgust at the wild looking 'prophets'.

Arthur turned his headand spat onto the stone rampart. He couldn't stand this anymore! These revolting people made him sick to his stomach. Just watching their grimy faces twist as they shouted horrible curses at him, his order and their royal charges infuriated him. It left a seething fire in his gut that augmented the growing nausea. Their words shouldn't have hurt, but they sliced through Arthur like a dragon's claws. He had bled and killed for them! He'd protected them from certain death all his life and this is how they repaid him? Their words struck a chord of resentment in his heart, only further infuriating the hot-blooded knight. Besides, these uppity peasants didn't know just how good they had it. The Kingdom of Spades was the finest land in the entire world, and these people had the nerve to assemble outside the castle and shout insults at the nobility? They had to be the laziest, most ungrateful lot Arthur had ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on.

So maybe the food supply was a bit short for the year. There had been plenty of bad weather to ruin to the crop yields, but there was still plenty to eat…right? Arthur certainly hadn't noticed a change in his usual meals in the Knights' mess hall. There was always fresh bread, roasted meat and plenty of spiced wine for them. Surely the peasants had at least a little bread and wine to satisfy themselves!

And maybe some of the banks were starting to fail, but that was just business! The Spade royalty was generous enough to let the people govern their markets. If they ruined a few banks in their sheer idiocy, well that was their own fault! Besides, once those failed banks were out of the way only the most secure banks would be left. Shouldn't that have made the stupid paupers happy? Their gold and silver would be safer now, so why protest at the castle like it would make any change? Stupidity. Complete and utter stupidity!

And fine, the market for goods was doing worse off than usual. But really, it couldn't be that bad, could it? The price of iron and wood hadn't increased all that much! Why were the peasants having such a hard time keeping jobs and making things? Building a table or crafting a sword didn't take skill! Arthur had watched plenty of idiotic men hammer away at iron before with dull, mindless expressions. What could possibly be so difficult about making something, selling it and then buying food to eat? Could these people get any dumber? It was such a simple cycle that Arthur thought even a ditzy troll could have figured it out faster than that unruly lot outside the castle.

"They're disgusting." Arthur grumbled under his breath.

"Ahh, they are but peasants. They don't know how to be upstanding citizens like you or I, dear Arthur." A charismatic voice chimed in his left ear. Arthur's eyes shifted from the shouting crowd to the man now standing beside him. He was garbed in finely crafted leather dyed a royal blue. A white cloak with the Spade insignia and a blue rose blooming at its center was draped across his shoulders and fine black riding boots completed his simple yet elegant attire.

"That's no excuse, Francis. We've tried to teach them a virtuous path and given them the freedoms they begged us for. Now look at what's happening! They're at our door, wishing for our deaths and the fall of our most excellent royal family."

Francis clicked his tongue, and leaned on an open spot along the ramparts.

"Yes, well, the price of freedom is a heavy burden to bear. They're just not used to it I think."

"It's been ages since serfdom was abolished! How long can they possibly need to understand how to take care of themselves? Wild animals learn to fend for themselves in a only a few months, yet these supposedly 'civilized' people can't even accomplish that in nearly a decade?"

"Change takes time, dear Arthur."

Arthur growled, looking back down to the crowd. A stone was lobbed from the rioting crowd at the castle walls, bouncing uselessly off the smooth front. The young knight chuckled deviously, before spitting again, this time into the crowd. He watched with twisted amusement as a roar of protest swept over the people and crowded squirmed.

"They're like ants: tiny and insignificant."

"Maybe so, but ants can be dangerous in a swarm." Francis heeded darkly. Arthur brushed off his warning with an annoyed scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"Not these ants, Francis. They're a hopeless lot."

The blue-eyed knight shrugged his cloaked shoulders. He had a dark look in his eyes, which utterly annoyed Arthur. What was Francis getting at? Was he really worried about a crowd of barely armed peasants? He was a trained Knight of Virtue for the gods' sakes! Francis was one of the finest fencers Arthur had ever known and the blue-eyed man likely could have dispersed the entire crowd with a fierce display of his lance and show of horsemanship.

Of course, Arthur would never admit he thought that way. Francis already had an ego the size of an ogre, and generally liked to flaunt his skills whenever they went into the castle courtyard for a little sparring practice. Arthur had never managed to master the art of fencing, and though his swordsmanship was excellent, Francis' was better. But the emerald-eyed knight had one edge over Francis: his magic. True, every knight had a firm grasp on fighting magic: spells to keep shields from shattering and enchantments to hone the blade of a weapon, but Arthur's magic went far beyond that. His magic ventured into the realm of true magi. Lightning and fire could fly from his fingertips as easily as throwing a dagger. Sometimes if Francis' artful fighting got to be annoying, Arthur would put him in his place with a little shower of sparks nipping at Francis' beloved white cloak. That usually ended their sparing sessions.

"Are you really worried?" Arthur asked earnestly as he leaned more of his weight along slot in the rampart. His armored gloves clattered against the stone, and Arthur gripped the edge firmly.

"The air doesn't feel right. Do you remember when the Kingdom of Clubs tried to invade us from the Isser Sea?"

Arthur felt a small shudder run down his spine. It chilled his nerves and brought forth another wave of nausea. The Kingdom of Clubs had always been the Spades' rival. It was a cold, mountainous kingdom known for its barbarity and ingenious devices. Clubs was brutal land, where creating new machines and the art of efficient killing was considered 'high culture'. Arthur could so avidly remember their terrible war machines and smoke-bellowing ships as they surrounded many of the smaller islands of the Spade realm. They fought like monsters, and knew no virtue or honor that the Knights followed. It had led to a mass slaughter of the Knights, one from which they had never fully recovered. Arthur still felt the empty hole in his heart whenever he passed by empty beds in the barracks.

"Of course I do," Arthur retorted, his voice low and choked. "How could I forget? We were barely of age and nearly died out there, Francis."

"I know. We were the lucky ones. We were newly knighted, and I'm still not sure how we survived those machines."

"The gods spared us."

"It's the only way, I suppose," Francis agreed before shrugging again. "No matter. That is the past."

"Why did you bring it up then?" The emerald-eyed knight inquired, glancing at the man beside him.

"Because of now. This bad feeling that I have deep in my heart…. Arthur, it feels like that time again."

"You're exaggerating. Nothing could possibly be as bad as the Isser War." Arthur resolutely declared. He shivered again. No, absolutely _nothing_ could be as horrendous as watching his fellow knights be mechanically pulled apart by savage war machines and even more savage warriors that called their bloody massacre 'art'.

"I hope not, dear Arthur, but my heart tells me there just might be. But enough of his depressing drivel; I actually came to the West wall to tell you something."

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, barely noticing as more stones were being lobbed at the wall from the unruly crowd. He vaguely wondered if the people would get any smarter and realize that the wall was impenetrable to even an ancient dragon, and certainly wouldn't fall to a bunch of thrown pebbles.

"Well, what is it then?" Arthur asked, leaning his cheek in his palm. He should have guessed Francis wasn't here for idle chatter. The man was as lazy as they came and certainly wouldn't have wandered from his position on the North wall just to chat up his rival.

"We've been given new orders-" Francis started, never taking his eyes off the peasants below them.

"Finally!" Arthur interjected with an annoyed scoff. They'd spent nearly two months lingering about the castle after their last dispatch to the far-off island of Osyer to handle a dispute between some locals and foreign fishermen from the Kingdom of Diamonds poaching fish in their waters. It hadn't been a terribly exciting mission, but the island had been exotic and offered plenty of sinful pleasures that Arthur and Francis were forbidden from in the castle. That was, after they'd sent fisherman away, they'd put down on their reports that they had stayed a few extra weeks to make sure the locals were better connected with their Knights. It hadn't been necessarily false, but neither would admit to just how much they ate, drank, or how often they seduced local virgins.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're excited, especially after that last mission," Francis gave a coy wink that made Arthur's cheeks tint a light shade of pink. "But it's nowhere truly exotic this time."

The emerald-eyed knight loosed a disappointed grunt. There was only so much fun one could have with the virtuous priests and priestess in the castle or the multitude of humble servants. While they sufficed for simply scratching the itch, it was nowhere near the wild fun they'd both had on Oyser. And Knights were forbidden from having relations of any kind with each other, whether it be marriage, brotherhood or even physical relations, so that meant getting into bed with an excellent lover like Francis was out of the question.

"So where are we headed to, and for what purpose?" Arthur queried.

"We're moving off of the main island and headed south to the grand City of Palms, Suoric."

"Suoric, huh? It's been a long time since I was there."

"I think the last time I was there was when my mentor brought me there to catch a ferry to the Voriy Isles. For choosing my coat of arms of course from the master painters."

"Certainly not because you wanted to seek out the beautiful mermaid pools, right, Francis?" Arthur chided with a snigger.

"Certainly not! Though they were indeed beautiful."

"You saw them?" Arthur rounded on his blue-eyed friend in shock.

"I saw _her_. There was only one and she dove under the water only a moment after I spotted her. But even that little glimpse was well worth the trek through the saw palmettos," Francis sighed softly, his eyes hazing with a farawaylook. "If only you could have seen her, Arthur! She was perfect. Her tail was a brilliant rose color and her eyes a wondrous garnet. Even her sun-kissed skin seemed to have the faintest red tint to it. She would have made all the goddesses envious of her bosom, too!"

"That's blasphemous," The young knight chuckled. "Even for you!"

Francis grinned wickedly, and gave another shrug.

"Sometimes I simply cannot help myself, dear Arthur."

"I'm all too aware of that, old friend. Now then, just why are we getting sent to Suoric?"

"We're getting sent because of the Rising. The King and her Majesty want us to go in pairs to each of the islands and reaffirm our authority, but also to 'connect' with the people."

"'Connect' as in the way we connected with the local virgins in Oyser?" Arthur asked suggestively, his words drawling out.

Francis clicked his tongue, smiling as he fondly recalled their past mission to the exotic island. Despite being rivals, Francis did enjoy Arthur's typical thought patterns and the memories he liked to bring up.

"I don't think that's what our most excellent royal family had in mind, dear Arthur. Although we could probably make it that way without their knowing."

"Then I'm looking forward to visiting the City of Palms."

"As am I, Arthur," Francis said, leaning over the rampart to stare down at the people still screaming up at the knights on the wall. "As am I…"

* * *

**~VoT~**

* * *

"So this is it, huh? The great City of Palms, Suoric?" Arthur tipped his head back to stare up at the imposing, carved gates of the city. Flanking either side of the pale wooden doors were massive sandstone walls that ran the length of the city's perimeter. Despite the wall's tall status, what impressed Arthur most was that the mighty palm trees behind the gates shaded the barbette tier of the walls with their broad crowns.

"It's certainly earned the name, hasn't it?" Francis observed after noting that Arthur seemed more transfixed with the plants rather than actually entering the city.

"Indeed," Arthur gave a half-hearted response. "I didn't imagine that palm trees could ever grow that tall."

"The people here take pride in their palms. They're a very special breed that the city growers have carefully bred for their imposing height and thick trunks." Francis filled in, urging his armored charger towards the gate.

"How do you know all this?" Arthur asked skeptically.

"My mentor told me all about it when visited this place. He was strangely obsessed with large trees, I think. On every trip that we took, he loved to talk about the different trees we would see."

Arthur cocked a brow, and grunted.

Francis simply shrugged.

"He was an odd man."

"I don't remember him much."

"I don't either, he wasn't my mentor for very long."

"He died in the Isser War, didn't he?"

"Yes." Francis said in a quiet tone that clearly meant he was done with where the conversation was leading. Arthur didn't probe any further. He knew better than that. The Isser War was a painful memory for the both of them, and it was mostly a silent agreement that it would never be spoken of in detail ever again. They'd both grown up very quickly in that short three-year war. They had to, or they would have died.

Arthur shook off the invading memory as the pale gates into Suoric gave a low groan and began to open on their heavy iron hinges. As the gates slowly opened up, Arthur caught his first glimpse of the City of Palms. The roads leading in were paved in polished sandstone much like the walls. Stumpy palms and bright green grass was planted in dirt beds that divided the roads into two directions. Most of the buildings appeared to be built from the same yellowish stone as well.

"It's exactly as I remember it!" Francis said nostalgically as they urged their chargers forward. The steeds' iron-shod hooves clattered loudly against the stone and their heavy armor jangled obnoxiously. Arthur felt a slight twinge of embarrassment color his cheeks. They probably looked like fools riding into the very tropical city of Suoric garbed in heavy dress-armor, cloaks and war-armored mounts. He had to admit, the armor was hot and heavy, and he could feel the startling heat rising off of his charger as well.

The gates slammed shut with a thunderous noise that startled Arthur. He yipped, but quickly covered his mouth as his cheeks tinted bright red. Beside him he heard Francis chuckle and motion towards the people outside of their homes.

The people in the streets lazily turned their heads at the noise, spotting the two Knights of Virtue. They stared on in wonder, and a few murmurs rose up from them. Most of them had probably never seen one, much less two, of the fabled Knights. The island and its only city were so far south of the main island that the Knights rarely had a chance to come this way. With the Rising though, the King and Queen had been adamant about visiting every island, no matter the distance.

Arthur squared his shoulders, hoping the blush had faded from his cheeks. If this was the first time these people were getting to look upon a Knight of Virtue, then Arthur wanted to look as fearsome and respectable as possible. And one simply couldn't be that with a childish flush on their face. It wasn't the best way to start their mission to Suoric, but hopefully it wasn't too noticeable.

"They're giving us such strange looks!" Arthur whispered to Francis as they maneuvered their massive warhorses through the small crowd of people that gathered along the streets.

"We must look strange then," Francis teased, glancing sidelong at his rival. "Or rather, _you_ look strange. I'm gorgeous."

"To Hell with you, Francis!" Arthur retorted, but kept his chin up, looking like a proper, pompous knight. "If you ask me, they're the strange looking ones!"

The people of Suoric did indeed dress quiet strangely, Arthur observed. They seemed to favor wearing brightly colored attire. The men wore mostly open-chest shirts and vests along with short trousers and most lacked shoes. They had bright, gaudy beadwork bracelets, anklets, necklaces and earrings that horrified Arthur to see grown men wearing. The most jewelry Arthur had ever seen on a man was Francis, who wore two golden hoops in his right earlobe and a copper necklace given to him by his younger sister.

Most of the people were also decorated in brightly colored ink drawings along their deeply tanned skin. And if Arthur thought the men were dressed in such unbecoming ways, he nearly fell out of his saddle when he spotted a group of women in the crowd. They too seemed to love bright, contrasting colors even more than the men. The women were wrapped in long lengths of gauzy silk that layered their bodies. Arthur had to swallow a bit of excess saliva when he noticed how the silk showed the strong curves of their bodies and how only the most sinful parts of them were covered at all. The young knight had never seen so much exposed thigh on a fully dressed woman in all of his life.

He tried to avert his gaze and looked down at their feet, which, like the men, lacked shoes. Their toenails were painted with warmly tinted pigments and more decorative ink drawings as well.

"They're so…" Arthur couldn't find the right word as he urged his mount closer to Francis'. He waved his hand at the other knight, gesticulating his search for a proper adjective.

"Colorful, exotic, beautiful?" The blue-eyed man offered.

"I was thinking more along the lines of-"

"Look!" Francis interrupted, suddenly pointing towards one of the branches in the main road.

"Damn it, Francis, don't interrupt me like that!" Arthur growled out, refusing to look to spite his rival. His eyes went back to the tantalizingly lovely expanses of skin he kept seeing through the waves of color.

"Arthur look or you'll miss it!" Francis said urgently, swatting blindly back at Arthur as he stared on.

"No. It can't possibly be all that interesting."

"Arthur, there are _wolves_ in the street!"

"WHAT?" Arthur whirled around, nearly falling out of his saddle. He couldn't see anything past the throngs of people, and snarled his frustration. He put one hand on the saddle guard and stood up in the stirrups, trying to see over the crowds of brightly dressed locals. He caught a fleeting glimpse of something that appeared to be on all fours and having fur, but it vanished around a bend in the road.

"You missed it!" Francis noted dejectedly.

"Not for long," Arthur reassured with a smirk, sitting back down in the saddle properly. "Let's go see these supposed wolves of yours!" He jabbed his horse's flanks with his heels. The charger bolted into a thunderous gallop towards the crowd. The locals parted for him, shouting angry remarks at the brash young knight as he barreled past them. He glanced back only once to see that Francis' was hot on his heels.

They rounded the corner, narrowly avoiding trampling a pack of scampering children in the road. The kids screamed in a mix of fear and delight. Of course it was exciting to see a pair of Knights galloping their massive warhorses down the street, probably off on some heroic mission, but it wasn't nearly as fun to be trampled by the ironclad hooves.

Francis called out to Arthur as they quickly gained on the fleeting four-footed creature, rounding another bend.

"Arthur, what if they're not friendly? I've never been much of a dog person, you know!"

"If they really are wolves, and decide to attack, then we slay them. It's that simple!" Arthur retorted, leaning across his steed's neck as they plunged down an alley after a very sharp turn.

They alley was narrow but short, and the moment Arthur emerged from its confines he drew his steed to halt with a quick tug of the reins. The charger threw back its head, snorting as it tossed its shortly cropped mane. Francis halted his steed just beside his rival's, and they both stared on in awe.

Across the road stood two of the biggest wolves either had ever seen. One was a strange golden color, with a glowing orange undercoat that made it appear as if each piece of fur contained its own tiny fire trapped within the strand. It had glowing white eyes that appeared to be without pupils, and it was the height of a grown man at its furry shoulders. At the base of its neck, a saddle guard was present and all along its back were pouches strapped on with cured white leather. Its paws were also wrapped to protect its sensitive pads from the harshness of the sandstone road.

Beside it stood another wolf of the same size and garb. Only this one was the purist white Arthur had ever seen and had jet-black eyes that, like its companion's, lacked any form of pupil.

Next to either one stood a figure wrapped in a simple, brown velvet robe. The deep hoods were drawn down over the figures' faces, completely hiding their identities. They seemed so out of place in the colorful city: not just because of their gigantic wolves, but also with their hidden faces and dull clothing, although neither wore shoes.

"Can we help you?" The hooded figure beside the blaze-colored wolf asked, his hand petting the golden fur absently.

Arthur was still in shock, and didn't respond. Wolves! Real, enormous, oddly colored _wolves_! In the middle of a completely civilized city in the Kingdom of Spades, no less! Wolves simply didn't exist in Spades; they had been wiped out decades before Arthur's time by hunters and had never been seen again. Arthur had read about them in his studies, and he had seen plenty of pictures depicting the ancestors of their modern dogs, but had never seen one in all his life. But they were _huge_! The pictures had painted them as no more than hip height on an adult. These beasts were taller than even the hooded figures they stood beside!

"Well?" The same hooded figure asked again, sounding slightly annoyed at having had to repeat his request. Luckily, Francis snapped out of his stupor and quickly returned to his roleas a proper Knight of Virtue.

"Reveal your faces, kind sirs." The blue-eyed knight requested. The authority in his voice quickly returned Arthur to the real world as well. He tilted his chin up and squared his shoulders expectantly. Neither figure moved.

"I said, remove your hoods, sirs." Francis repeated.

"We would rather not, m'lord." The other figure whispered respectfully. Arthur barely heard him, and sneered.

"Speak up!"

"I'm sorry, m'lord. I can speak no louder." The smaller of the hooded figures tried to explain.

Arthur narrowed his eyes skeptically, and then glanced at Francis. The blue-eyed knight shrugged, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand.

The emerald-eyed knight looked back to the hooded figures and their wolves.

"Never mind, just listen to him and drawn down your cowls."

"Great Knights of Virtue, please forgive us, but we cannot." The whispering one pleaded, placing his hand on the snowy-white wolf. He gripped its neck fur like a safety blanket, letting the soft hairs tickle his hands. The wolf bowed its head and drew back its lips in a warning snarl. Its pearly teeth glinted in the brilliant sunlight, making the knights' steeds shift in fear.

"You'll do as we say, peasant, or you'll suffer for your willful disobedience!" Arthur bellowed, brandishing his sword from hits scabbard at his hip. The white wolf growled loudly, ears pinning back and the blaze-colored wolf mirrored it. Arthur's steed took a step back, snorting and whinnying. He tried to steady it with a firm tug on the reins. He gripped his sword tighter, noticing that Francis had removed his long lance from its straps on his charger's armor. The barbed tip glinted dangerously under the sunlight as the wolves and the knights stared each other down.

The tension lasted only a few moments as the louder of the hooded figures suddenly stepped forward. His large hands pushed back the cowl over his head, revealing a deeply tanned, handsome face. Arthur marveled at the man's perfectly strong, perfectly curved jaw, his slim, straight nose, and dark, smiling lips. He had long bangs that gleamed a deep gold in the sun's light, but his hair was a bit shorter in the back. A stray cowlick peeked out from between the part in his bangs as well. Bright, clear eyes the color of the waters outside of Suoric sparkled beneath his brow, and completely captivated Arthur. The young knight found himself lost in the amazing eyes. They were so incredibly vibrant, so full of life, so blue, so… beautiful.

"I'm sorry m'lords, we didn't mean to upset you."

_Upset? What was there to be upset about?_ Arthur wondered as he kept staring into those wonderful eyes. There was nothing upsetting about this man. He was amazing and could do no wrong with a face like that! The knight rationalized. The robed man didn't even seem to mind! He easily matched Arthur's gaze with a soft smile that sent Arthur's heart into a warm, fluttering fit. He subconsciously wondered if it was bad for his health for his heart to feel this way. But who cared? It felt incredible. Just one look from the stranger had sent him into such a state!

Francis tapped his fellow knight's leg with his booted foot when he noticed his rival's jaw hang open and begin to salivate like a lusty dog. Thankfully, Arthur had the decency to snap his mouth closed before any excess drool could spill over. But he still continued to ogle the stranger's lovely face even as Francis began to speak again.

"Thank you, sir," The blue-eyed knight returned his lance to its holster. "I apologize for my companion's rash behavior. The heat must be getting to his head." He was utterly shocked when Arthur didn't reply to that. Sure the stranger was certainly handsome, but he'd never seen Arthur speechless before! He'd have to write this down somewhere for record keeping. Arthur _always_ had a retort for everything!

"It's understandable," Said the incredibly handsome robed man. "Suoric is known for its grueling heat."

_And for its ridiculously good-looking men, apparently…_ Arthur thought.

"How can we help you, m'lords?" The man continued.

"Those wolves you have with you," Francis motioned to the massive beasts, which had ceased growling after the robed man had stepped forward. "How in the name of the gods did you find wolves in Spades? And why are they so big?"

_I wonder if that man is big…._ The emerald-eyed man let his mind wander to sinful places.

"These are not ordinary wolves, nor do they come from Spades. These are Weald Wolves from our homeland."

"That can't be…" Francis whispered; his voice strained with something akin to horror. He narrowed his eyes, glaring death at the stranger. "What is your name, stranger?"

"My name is impossible for your limited human tongues to pronounce, but the people of Suoric have given me the name 'Alfred Jones'.

"Alfred…" Arthur murmured under his breath, not even considering its meaning as his mind thought only of how lovely that name would sound rolling off his tongue as they made love. He squirmed slightly in his saddle. Damn it! Why did this stranger have to look so handsome and sound like a god with that perfect tenor voice?

"What is your true name?" Francis demanded, his hand shifting to the lance again. His eyes shifted to Arthur, then rolled skyward in exasperation. Clearly Arthur was going to be about as useful as a sack of potatoes.

The man said a word that could have been a name and remotely sounded as if it started with the letter 'F'. It sounded like nails scratching on polished glass to Arthur's ears, instantly snapping him out of his lusty haze. I very much hurt to hear, and made Arthur flinch.

"Turn your head, _Alfred_." Arthur sneered the name as if it were toxic venom on his tongue.

Alfred did as he was commanded, and Arthur's lips curled back in disgust. The tips of the Alfred's ears were slightly elongated and pointed at the tip. The sight sent a rolling wave of nausea through the emerald-eyed knight.

_Oh gods, what have I done? I thought such sinful things about that _creature_?_

"You're an elf!" Arthur growled out.

Alfred simply nodded.

That changed everything….

* * *

**Here, have this nice, ridiculous list of UO inspired things that are apparent in this. ;) Also, do I have to point out the My Little Pony semi-tribute? xD**

**Virtues of Tyranny - UO related meaning/event  
Kingdom of Spade = Britannia  
The Rising = The Awakening  
Osyer = Nujel'm (C'mon, the 'City of Pleasure'? How could I resist?)  
Isser War = Lord Blackthorn's Siege / Knight Dawn's battle for Britannia.  
Kingdom of Clubs = Ilshenar  
Club warriors/machines = Blackthorn's servants. The combination of man, magic and machines.  
Viory Isles = Tokuno Islands  
Suoric = City of Trinsic  
King and Queen of Spades = Lord British and Queen Dawn  
King of Clubs = Lord Blackthorn  
Ancient Dragon = Ancient Wyrm and/or Greater Dragons  
Weald Wolves = Cu Sidhe (Al's is a Blaze, and Mattie's is a rare Luna White)  
Knights of Virtue = Knights of the Crux Anasta  
Path of Virtue = Lord British's Order of Virtue  
High culture of the Kingdom of Clubs = Lord Blackthorn's Order of Chaos.  
Kingdom of Diamonds = Felucca (Double resource gain from the Fel facet seemed appropriate)  
Kingdom of Hearts = T2A or the "Lost Lands"  
The People of Spades = Those that follow the path of the Bane Chosen, which the dogmatic view that humans are the superior race. Virtue, prosperity and racial superiority are their beliefs.**

**Review? :D Also, if anyone actually plays UO(doubtful, but I have some hope), message me or something!**


	2. Chapter 2

NOTICE:

ALL updates for ALL stories are currently on hold until further notice due to unforseen personal issues.

Sorry for the inconvience. I will update again if anything occurs to change this status.


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